


There was Music, There was Dance, and then There were Touya's Eyes

by headraline



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Might as well post it, Music, akira's got them moves, boys being stupid, but I'm laughing too much, hikaru likes, or rather it's silly, slight oocness maybe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headraline/pseuds/headraline
Summary: Three sets of jaws literally drop:Waya cannot believe Touya is actually that confident about talking and interacting to girls.Shindou cannot believe Touya even knows how to dance –or that he would even want to dance to stupid ballroom songs with a girl, of all things to do.Isumi cannot believe all of his friends and acquaintances are such idiots and will not let him enjoy his drink in peace.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I have obviously a lot to explain. Among other things, I'm a part time pole dance teacher, and thanks to my sister who's very much into it I also enjoy ballroom dancing, especially of the Latin variety.  
> Yesterday evening, after my teaching class, I was chatting with a friend and we ended up talking about my incoming comicon and other things.  
> And at one point, she says "Hah, you'll be the first Touya Akira that knows how to move them hips!"  
> It got me thinking. What if Akira DID know how to move them hips?  
> The stereotype of him being completely socially inept kind of contrasts with the high-class education, if only just a little...  
> It also didn't help that it was already well past midnight and while I'm sleep deprived everything is hilarious to me.  
> God, I have to be at my other job in less than one hour.  
> I have probably 3 hours of sleep on me. I don't even know, just take this.  
> Oh! Before I forget: here's an example of what Akira does in this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdVg1ptQC1w the first three minutes and ten seconds of this video are more or less what I imagined.  
> And here's the other song, the one that comes up later and whose lyrics I used and sort of translated (I'm not Spanish so I'm not too sure, but it's close enough): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOAy6RtrSa4
> 
> Fully translated, the lyrics are so HIkaAki it's not even funny. I've had the image of them dancing to it together nice and slow for a while now, and this is how it came to life.  
> It might be my stupidest fic idea yet, but still.  
> I regret nothing.  
> Except maybe not being able to beta if my own life depended on it. XD

Social gatherings are something public figures more or less come to expect: you greet people, smile at journalists and generally just stand around to make nice with the people around you… simple enough, right? Wrong, apparently. Maybe it’s because it’s Go players, but this particular gathering –a get together between the rising stars of Japan’s different prefectures plus some of the bigger names – seems to be slightly awkward, especially for some of the younger ones.

The fundraising event was normal enough –there were games, lessons, and all the things they were familiar with – but now things moved into the dinner party, with a buffet and music and a _dance floor_ , and Hikaru is not a happy camper.

If asked, nobody would peg Shindou Hikaru for someone who shies away from the spotlight, what with his dyed hair and exuberant personality, and yet there he is, sitting not too far away from his rival, playing wallflower along with some friends from his insei days.

“This is boring!” Waya complains, plopping in the seat right next to them, “Ballroom music is bullshit.”

Hikaru nods his agreement silently, leaning a little farther back in his chair, but almost falls off when Touya feels the need to add his two cents: “It’s not that bad.”

“What? What part of this exactly is ‘not bad’?” the blond asks, righting himself at the last moment by gripping the chair’s armrests.

Looking around, Akira gestures at what he sees: while some pros are sitting around, talking amongst themselves and taking advantage of the fancy buffet; some others are making good use of the dancefloor –among which there’s his father as well, the former Meijin for once clad in a modern style suit and discreetly taking his wife for a spin to the peaceful rumba. Maybe to the onlookers it doesn’t look like much, but Akira looks at them fondly, knowing they’re basically having the time of their life. “People look like they’re having fun. Nobody died. Does it look that bad?”

“I don’t know whether that’s adorable or creeps me out.” Yoshitaka idly comments, shaking his head. “But I still think it’s boring.” Eventually, he gives up with a sigh, “Eh, at least the food is good.” He concedes, swiping a shrimp tart from Hikaru’s plate, prompting a pissed “Hey!” from the pro in question.

Their time as (mostly) quiet observers gets interrupted by Nase’s arrival. “I knew you lot would be just sitting around.” She remarks, putting her hands on her hips. Shindou distractedly compliments her, she does look very pretty in her dress, with the black bodice and white skirt, but she doesn’t get distracted enough by the appreciative comments. “Come on… you’re all behaving like grumpy old men! Any chance one of you boys would take this girl for a dance?”

Waya just snorts at the very question and tries to go hide behind Isumi’s back, and when Nase’s eyes travel to Hikaru –probably hopeful because he did just compliment her, after all–  the blonde shakes his head somewhat sheepishly. “Uh, no. I’m sorry, I totally would love to, but I don’t know how to waltz.”

“So what? It’s not stopping Honda over there.” Nase remarks, jabbing a thumb in the direction where a visibly tipsy Honda is clumsily enjoying the dance with an embarrassed Chieko. The performance won’t win them any awards, but they do look like they’re having fun.

“It’s a _rumba_ , Shindou, not a waltz.” Akira comments at the same time, before he can stop himself. “You guys are unbelievable… we’ve been pros for what, a decade?”

Give or take a year, yes. “S-so what?” Hikaru counters, slightly put off by the fact that Touya even knows what a rumba is.

“ _So_ , you kinda should have gotten the hang of this by now.” Akira finishes, putting both hands on the edge of the table and standing up with a pointed look to both fellow pros. Hikaru recognizes that look, it’s the one where he can’t tell if you’re actually that dumb or if you’re doing it on purpose. Eventually he shakes his head and smiles at the female pro. “I can dance with you if you’d like, Nase-san.” He offers, as the music changes from rumba to bachata, simultaneously making Nase smile and three sets of jaws literally drop:

Waya cannot believe Touya is actually that confident about talking and interacting to girls.

Shindou cannot believe Touya even knows how to dance –or that he would even _want_ to dance to stupid ballroom songs with a girl, of all things to do.

Isumi cannot believe all of his friends and acquaintances are such idiots and will not let him enjoy his drink in peace, but this does promise to get very interesting, if the look on Shindou’s face is anything to go by.

Eventually Waya gets over his shock as well, and as Nase happily takes Akira’s hand and gets led to the dancefloor the redhead laughs, sitting back down and clapping Hikaru on the shoulder. “Hey, this is suddenly looking fun!” obviously, Yoshitaka’s faith in the younger Touya’s dancing abilities is abysmal, and he’s already tasting a good laugh at the expense of the new wave’s ‘golden boy’, “Can’t wait to see how it turns out!”

Hikaru doesn’t seem to share is amusement, and just silently looking on. _‘Like, what the hell?’_ he thinks, eyeing the way Akira accompanies Nase along and takes position, _‘Since when does he dance? Why did he never tell me? You think you know a guy…’_ for some reason, he’s mildly pissed that he didn’t know. It kinda feels like a small betrayal of sorts.

After a particularly hard May the 5th, when ‘someday’ finally came and the two rivals spent an entire evening on the exchange that pretty much made poor Akira’s world view basically crumble to pieces and come back completely changed, they had promised no more secrets –and they do know more about each other than anyone else. Touya knows about Sai, Hikaru knows the truth behind Akira’s weird colour combinations –a minor defect in colour perception that makes some hues indistinguishable to his eyes– and about his deep rooted phobia of clowns… with the passage of time, their bickering grew less juvenile and more playful, and most people would define them inseparable.

They know practically everything about each other. And yet today Hikaru learned something new. It’s not like he was _supposed_ to know, not like it ever came up in conversation, but still. The blond can’t help but feel slightly robbed by the fact that Nase was the first to encounter this side of Akira.

 _‘Somebody would call this jealousy, Hikaru.’_ A voice in a corner of his mind says, sounding almost like Sai’s –which is the tone Shindou imagines to identify that annoyingly insightful part of his brain that is logical and usually right, and that he never listens to. He can’t be jealous of Akira. He never even liked Nase! _‘Unless…’_

Despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to tear his eyes off the pair, especially with the way Touya is leading their fellow pro. Waya expected awkward clumsiness, and instead not even the fact that in heels Nase is taller than Akira seems to matter. Touya is a younger and slightly more daring image of his father, all masculine elegance and poised charm, even with the bright blue suit and pastel pink shirt; seamlessly dancing along the song together with Nase, who admittedly does look beautiful in her dress, flowy fringed skirt swishing from side to side every time Touya makes her turn.

“Holy crap.” Waya’s disbelieving mutter takes the words right out of his mouth. “They almost look like a couple.”

“They _don’t_.” Hikaru vehemently denies, making Waya _and_ Isumi snap their gaze towards him.

Not really able to help it, Isumi chuckles. “ _Some_ body doesn’t like to share, huh.”

It prompts a stream of suppressed giggles from Waya and embarrassed sputters from Hikaru. Year after year, there have been all sorts of rumours about Akira and himself –the rocky start to their rivalry immediately got them both lots of attention, and when they grew out of the childish part, it became increasingly harder to explain why would two grown ass guys be so obsessed with each other. Hikaru doesn’t quite understand it either; to him it’s natural like breathing.

It’s just the way it is. He’s Akira’s rival, and Akira is _his_ , for crying out loud.

Okay, maybe that sounds a little too possessive, but still! It’s not like he actually has feelings for the guy! Well, maybe a little. Okay, fine, maybe a lot. Maybe he would love nothing more than to grab Touya by the hair, smash their lips together and friendly inform him that apparently ‘rivalry’ also includes _I want you naked in bed, possibly more than once, actually possibly forever if you don’t mind._

Not that he’d ever tell Akira out loud, or even let it slip. The worst part is that he doesn’t know whether Akira feels the same or not. Sometimes Hikaru feels like he does –there’d be a look, or something in his voice… but other times he just thinks he’s seeing what he wants to see.

It’s hard to tell with Touya, because while Shindou is indeed the only one who can get the other all ruffled and agitated, it’s also true that 8 times out of 10 is out of anger or during some other kind of banter. And now stupid Akira had to go and add fuel to the flame, with his stupid perfect posture and stupid nice butt. That Hikaru was most definitely _not_ staring at. Nuh-uh.

The song ends, and Touya bows politely to Nase before returning to the table his still flabbergasted rival is waiting at. “And that, gentlemen, is how it’s done.” He remarks, the closest he’s ever come to talking his age without being in a shouting match with his rival, knowing it would piss off Shindou to no end to hear him being smug about anything. He is still slightly flushed from the dance –it’s not that much of a workout, but it still was a lot of dancing around and leading another person, twirling and dipping and such.

True enough, the blond opens and closes his mouth, but no sound comes out. Waya saves him from the embarrassment, having long grown out the juvenile dislike for Touya and being on civil enough terms with the younger pro for a bit of fun: “I’ll be damned!” he exclaims, laughing, “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“I used to have ballroom classes once a week at Kaio.” Ah, of course. The prestigious elite school did have a reputation for raising perfect little gentlemen. That explains a lot –including why Touya-sensei also knows how to dance, considering that up to middle school Akira did follow his father’s footsteps.

Isumi shakes his head. “Goddamn. I might have to ask you to teach me a few moves, for the next party.” Which only receives a chuckle from Akira in response, accompanied by a “Sure, why not” that for some reason makes Hikaru even more pissed.

At this point, it would have to be taken into account that there are a couple glasses of champagne in Hikaru and as such his decision-making skills are not the best. “You know what? Isumi-san has the right idea!” he grumbles, tugging at Akira’s arm to get him up and away from the seats, “I want to learn too! Teach _me_.”

“Hikaru, are you drunk?” his rival’s first name tumbles out of Touya’s lips accidentally, in his bewilderment at both the blonde’s pissy mood and sudden proposition. He follows Hikaru out of the seats, if only to bring him to a more secluded area of the hall, where hopefully not too many people will hear them –provided he manages to avoid engaging Shindou in a shouting match. “Do you really _want_ to dance with me in a room full of people and journalists?”

Contrary to popular belief, the rumours about the two of them do not go completely over Touya’s head, the young Go prodigy simply decided to never address them and spare himself the headache, but he knows that people talk –and there’s two kinds of people, by now: those convinced that they’re just very passionate rivals, and the ones who firmly believe they’re already sleeping together. Nothing anyone says will change either party’s mind. He’s just not sure whether Hikaru would like how this ends or not.

“Ah, _now_ you’re self-conscious?” the blonde scoffs, and suddenly Touya feels even more confused.

“Wait are you angry at me?” he asks, blinking ad tilting his head somewhat cautiously towards Hikaru, “What did I even do? Is it because of Nase-san? I have no interest in her, nor she in me, it was just one dance, you—”

“Don’t give a crap about Nase!”  Shindou hisses, luckily not tipsy enough to forget about volume control –that would’ve been plain rude. Seemingly regaining his wits about him at Akira’s completely lost look, he shakes his head, also shaking the anger out of his face. “Look, I’m not angry, it’s just… why didn’t you tell me?”

It’s an honest question, and as he always is compelled to when it comes to Shindou, Akira gives an honest answer: “I thought you’d make fun of me.”

“For what, being perfect in _yet another way_?” the comment leaves the blonde’s mouth before he can stop it, and when he realizes what he just said Akira is not the only one with a surprised blush on his face.

It’s at that moment that, looking at his rival’s face, something clicks, and Akira gets an idea. “Well, I suppose I could teach you some moves.” He all but mumbles, taking his rival’s hand and leading him into the currently unoccupied foyer. The music is fainter from there, but still very much audible as another song starts.

For a moment they just look at each other, Touya’s eyes bright and green under the many chandeliers’ lights, and his gaze intense but slightly playful –Hikaru can’t bring himself to look away.

 ** _Tener tus ojos debe ser ilegal_**  
(To have your eyes must be illegal  
**_y mas si cuando miras solo inspiras a pecar  
_** since even with one look you inspire to sin)

Akira takes position, biting his lips to hide a smile. “This is a bachata as well. Here, I’ll be the girl so you can learn the guy’s part.”

“I— what—” Hikaru suddenly finds himself with an armful of Touya and _‘Oh God, I can smell his shampoo, why is he so close?’_

 _ **esa sonrisa peculiar de jugar a tentar letal**  
_ (That peculiar smile that plays at being lethal  
**_es un dote que si sabes como usar para matar_**  
is a skill that when used well can even kill)

“We move in eights, left and right.” Akira softly direct, guiding Shindou’s right hand around his midriff and pulling him closer by the shoulder. “One, two, three, on four we switch; then five, six seven and switch again.”

Hikaru feels his mouth run dry when Touya nudges one leg between his knees, in an effort to presumably be in the correct position, as he starts to move. The blond follows, stumbling at first but getting into the rhythm soon enough.

 _ **te has armado de forma perfecta**  
_ (You’ve armed yourself with the perfect way  
_**para hacerme agonizar tan muerte lenta**_  
to make me agonize through a slow death  
_**mientras tu boca violenta revienta**_  
while your mouth explodes, violent  
__**dentro de mi boca como un rayo una tormenta.**  
into my own, like lightning, like a storm)

“You’re doing good. Now if you want to twirl me you first take half a step back and raise your arm, I have to pass under it, like this…” Akira doesn’t quite know what he’s doing. Well, he knows the what, it’s everything else he has trouble figuring out. It’s just… Hikaru makes him do stupid shit more often than not. Every time they interact, it’s like it has to be this intensely focused battle or something. Akira loves it and hates it at the same time. There’s so much they never tell each other, so much unresolved tension that it can’t possibly just be about go, let’s be realistic, they’re not little kids anymore and Touya sees how Hikaru looks at him sometimes… he’s not a complete idiot, and he’s fed up with it. Hopefully this stunt will yank the truth forward.

 _ **Tan solo las doce y no se escuchas voces**  
_ (Barely midnight and you don’t hear any voices  
_**solo gemidos finos, sonidos del goce**_  
only fine moans, sounds of pleasure  
_**para cerrar la noche con broche de oro**_  
to close the night with a piece of gold  
__**yo te llego al oido y susurro este coro:**  
I reach out to your ear and whisper this chorus)

“You _so_ didn’t learn to dance like _this_ as a kid at Kaio.” Hikaru idly comments, when he feels Touya’s hips shift against his in a way that is neither gentlemanly nor proper for a middle schooler.

“Obviously not. But you do pick up on some things, once you’re _all grown up_.” and fuck if that suggestive, barely-there sultriness isn’t the most inviting thing he ever heard in Akira’s voice.

  
_**Eso no fue nada, ya estoy en confianza negra**_  
(This is nothing, I’m already in dark confidence  
_**si me regalas la mañana**_  
if you give me next morning  
_**te llevo hasta la noche eterna**_  
I’ll take you to an eternal night)

They keep dancing for a while, and slowly Hikaru’s posture grows a bit more relaxed and he starts trying to lead, twirling Akira here and there. It’s not even remotely the polished performance from before, but Touya likes this so much better. If nothing else, for the sheer intensity that radiates off Shindou like a physical presence –it’s amazing, it’s part of why he’s always so drawn to the other.

“Your lips are moving…” Hikaru suddenly comments, watching him intently as they move along, “Do you know what the song says?”

“Not really…” he answers, shrugging slightly as they slow down to barely anything more than a slow sway from side to side, “Something about sex, or close enough. It’s European music.”

Sure, because all European songs for bachata ever made are about sex, all the time. The half-assed explanation does get a chuckle from Hikaru, so all in all Akira calls it a win. “Hey…” he calls, barely above a mumble.

“Yeah?” his rival’s voice also softened to whispers, and the blonde’s head is dangerously inching down to be cheek to cheek with him.

“Ready to tell me why you got angry, just before?” Akira pulls slightly back from the embrace, to be able to look his rival in the eye –he needs to see this.

Hikaru gets pulled in by the other’s eyes –once more. He’s always been pulled in by Akira’s eyes, ever since their first meeting, long, long ago. He feels his walls getting more and more meaningless, and finds it within himself to let go. His chest is probably going to burst if he doesn’t say something now that they’re so close. “You mean other than the fact that I was absolutely, horribly jealous?”

“I’m being serious, Hikaru.” The way Akira’s tone is cautious, almost guarded, strikes the blond as painful –it’s almost as if Touya is afraid of getting made fun of, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Clearly he’d never do such a thing and he has to make it very obvious.

He fixates his very own _look_ on Akira, slowly inching forward. “And I gave you a serious answer, _Akira_.” The emphasis on the use of the other’s first name falls on deaf ears, because Touya isn’t sure he can hear anything, not with the way Hikaru just closed the distance between them to kiss him.

It feels even better than either of them ever imagined.

They’re hesitant at first, and their lips immediately part, but just as quickly meet again, and again, going gradually deeper each time. “Want to get out of here?” Hikaru manages to gasp out, sliding both his hands down Akira’s back and stopping them at his hips.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Is all his rival says, and they kiss again.

They poke their head back into the hall just briefly to say their goodbyes to Waya and Isumi and make some excuse or other about having to go –if either of the two pros takes notice of their slightly rumpled appearance and kiss-swollen lips, neither says a thing. Even though the look Waya gives Shindou as he tells them to enjoy their night with a strange emphasis on the verb tells Akira that the redhead knows more than he lets on.

It seems like an eternity until they reach Hikaru’s place, but his rival’s lips are right back where they should be –on his own – within seconds of closing the door; and Akira’s chuckle gets lost in Shindou’s mouth, as they clumsily topple over the couch.

He never cared much for his ballroom classes as a child, but considering this night’s outcome… they’ve probably become his third favourite thing ever –the first two spots being obviously taken and there are no guesses as to what they are.

Touya’s last coherent for the night, as he feels Hikaru unbuttoning his shirt and biting down on his collarbone, is _‘Well. Lots of betting pools are going to pay out, tomorrow.’_

Then Hikaru kisses his way back up to his lips, through his neck, and that doesn't matter anymore.

Not even the fact that they have a match tomorrow –Akira already vowed to destroy Hikaru over the goban, but—

“ _Oh God_ , Hikaru, _please…_ ”

—that can wait.

 

_~end~_


End file.
